The Battle of Wills and Wands
by Jetainia
Summary: The Elder Wand demands to be used.


**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Broken Wand**

 **Word count: 873**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

After the Battle of Hogwarts and Harry had used the Elder Wand to repair his trusty holly and phoenix feather wand, he thought that the power of the Elder Wand would be broken. It hadn't been stolen through death or violence;instead, it was peacefully resting in a tomb with Albus Dumbledore. Or at least, it was supposed to be peacefully resting in a tomb with Albus Dumbledore. Rather, it was sitting innocently in Harry's palm as though it had never left.

The Saviour of the Wizarding World stared at the piece of wood in his hand, it had appeared on his bedside table while he slept. He hadn't noticed it at first as it had been hidden by the breakfast tray Kreacher had taken to bringing him every morning, but there it was, merrily sitting there as though he hadn't just placed it in Dumbledore's tomb the previous day.

There was an aura of repressed energy emanating from the wand as it sat in his hand; and Harry wasn't so sure he wanted to deal with it today. So, he placed it back on the bedside table and decided to ignore it until it went away as he went to take a shower and start his day. Except when he had finished his shower and was attempting to calm his hair down a bit, the wand was sitting on the bathroom counter.

Harry sighed and stopped messing with his hair—it was never going to calm down anyway-before walking out of the bathroom and getting dressed. The wand sat on the counter, and he ignored it. So went the pattern of the day; Harry would move around and go about his daily life as the wand appeared on different surfaces in the room that he occupied at that moment. Each time Harry ignored the wand and moved on without interacting with it in any way, the wand's wood grew steadily darker until it was the darkest grey it could be without turning black.

It was at this point that Harry figured he should probably do something about the Elder Wand. He had ignored it all day, and the problem hadn't gone away. Instead, it had possibly worsened. How Harry loved the Potter-luck he had inherited. Feeling a little silly, Harry sat down on the couch and directed his attention to the wand sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

"Elder Wand, this has got to stop," the wand simply sat there and Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "What I mean is- I already have a wand. And it's a brilliant wand, I love my wand. I do not need you and you should right now be with your last owner because that is where I put you. Understand?"

Harry really hoped the Elder Wand understood in some way or another because otherwise, he had just talked to an inanimate piece of wood and expected it to heed his words by not following him around.

When he woke up the next day, it was to find his holly wand in two pieces and the Elder Wand next to it. He groaned, decided he didn't want to talk to a wand and picked up the Elder Wand, pointed it at his holly one and cast _reparo_. Then he snapped the Elder Wand in two pieces and threw it into the waste paper basket next to his desk. Hopefully, that would solve all his problems.

The next morning, he was greeted with his holly wand in three pieces and the Elder Wand, completely intact, once again sitting next to it. "No," he said and proceeded to repair and then break, just as he had the day before.

It became a battle of wills. Every morning, Harry would wake up and be greeted by the sight of his holly wand in more pieces than the day before with the Elder Wand next to it. It didn't matter how many pieces he broke the Elder Wand in to, it didn't matter if he put the Elder Wand in a warded bubble. Nothing he did worked.

Eventually, Harry woke up to the scent of smoke and looked forlornly on the ashes that had once been holly and phoenix feather. He threw up his hands in defeat, "Fine! Fine, I will use you. Just stop breaking my wand! And you have to repair it as well. If I have to use you, I'm going to use both of you."

Ashes became pristine wood and the inky blackness of the Elder Wand once more became white. Harry hung his head and sighed, why was his life so complicated? Why had he been involved in a duel of wills with a _wand_? Unfortunately, Harry didn't have the answers; and he doubted Hermione would either. Still, at least his holly wand wasn't going to be broken every morning from now on.

* * *

"Really?" Harry asked as he stared at the separate pieces of the wand he had received when he was eleven. " _Really_?"

The Elder Wand pulsed and Harry got the feeling it was laughing at him. Of course, he had to get a prankster wand. He was the son of a Marauder, after all. How had this formed into his life?


End file.
